


Wicked

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Raphael & Santfe [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Banter, Complicated Relationships, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Flirting, M/M, Priests, Teasing, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 06:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19351714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Sanfte is wearing the most ridiculous costume to tempt in.It's infuriating.





	Wicked

“I cannot  _believe_  you,” Raphael hissed across the table, and Sanfte leaned back in his seat, sipping idly at his glass of rich, red wine. It was late evening, and the summer air settled pleasantly on Raphael’s skin, making him want to curl up somewhere warm and  _sleep_. 

“Of course you can, my dear boy,” Sanfte said pleasantly, watching Raphael with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t see why this should be so unusual.”

“A  _priest,_ fiend? Really?”

“How better, my darling angel, to tempt the masses?” Sanfte asked, his tone sage. He was wearing a black cassock, the buttons tightly fastened over his chest, the robes coming down to his ankles and showing his weathered black boots, a pair that the demon had bought in 1821 and had not yet been convinced the part with. He sat very primly, and Raphael couldn’t help but squirm. He looked so...  _priestly_. With his hair tied up in that messy little bun, with his glasses laid on his face, he looked  _precisely_  like a priest, and it was infuriating.  _Twice_ , passers by had nodded to him and greeted him with a polite, “Father.”

“But Roman Catholic?  _Really_?” Raphael asked. It wasn’t that he was offended. Any of the other angels would be offended, he thought - Uriel would be incensed, Michael would be furious, Gabriel would be... Well, Gabriel would be confused, but if someone explained it, he’d be angry. It wasn’t that.

It was that it was-- 

Well.

It was  _funny_. Sanfte was  _funny_. He had a cutting sense of humour, when it suited to have them, a rather wicked irony, and it made Raphael feel... Well. Rather  _unangelic feelings_ , actually.

“You must admit, is rather is the funniest choice,” Sanfte murmured, and Raphael, who had been sprawled out in his own chair, had to restrain himself from jumping into the air when Sanfte’s foot rubbed playfully at the side of Raphael’s own under the table. It tickled. It was-- It was  _nice._ It was a little bit more than nice.“Oh, goodness me, Raphael, would you look at that blush? Is this all it takes to tempt an angel into bed with me, a cassock and a dog collar?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Raphael hissed, and Sanfte chuckled.

“You might sit in my lap, if you like,” he said in a soft, delicate purr, his glittering gaze fixed on Raphael, nodding politely to the girl who murmured a soft “Hello, Father,” as she passed. “Tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

“You’re thinking of Santa Claus,” Raphael muttered, glancing at his expensive watch for the time and trying to ignore the way Sanfte’s toe was playing against his ankle, just under the hem of his trouser leg. It made him want to  _tremble_. It made him want to take Sanfte up on his offer, and sit on his plush thighs, feel Sanfte’s hand play over his back.

“My dear,” Sanfte murmured, his tone full of pleasant intent, “I can  _assure_  you I’m not. What would you do, I wonder, were I to move my foot  _just_  a little higher, and--” Raphael’s hand whipped to grab hold of Sanfte by the plump, warm ankle, stopping his foot before it could press between Raphael’s thighs.

“We’re in the middle of the  _street_ ,” Raphael said. 

“So?”

“So people will _see_  you. And you look like a priest!”

“Well, precisely. They’ll hardly be surprised, will they? Footsie over wine is rather tame, dearest boy, for a padre.” 

Raphael couldn’t hold it back. A rather undignified giggle crept out of his mouth, half-snorted, and he looked down, making sure Sanfte couldn’t see his eyes as he shoved the demon’s foot back onto the floor.

Sanfte was watching him. There was a little smile on his curved lips, and his eyes were  _bright_ ,  the expression... Surprisingly unsalacious. There was barely any filth in it at all, actually.

It was-- Well, for lack of a better word, it was  _fond_.

“You’re detestable,” Raphael murmured.

“My darling creature, I am decadence itself. How could one detest  _me_?”

“I detest you.” He smirked as he said it, rather enjoying the excited thrill at saying something so  _unkind_ , and with no guilt at all, because it was to  _Sanfte_ , and he could be as mean to Sanfte as he liked--

Sanfte gasped, his eyes comically wide. “A lie! From an angel! Heavens, call the presses!”

“I’m not going to go to dinner with you if you’re going to wear that,” Raphael said. “I’ll go alone. And I’ll go to one of  _my_  restaurants, where they serve those artistic little portions on a gigantic plate, and it’s three mouthfuls for a ridiculous price.”

“Oh?” Sanfte asked, arching a silver-dashed eyebrow. “Alone?”

“ _Alone_.”

“You’d rather eat alone than with a priest? That’s not very holy of you, dear.”

“You’re not a priest, Sanfte. You’re a bastard.”

Sanfte  _beamed_ , giving a little shift of his shoulders as if Raphael had given him an unspeakably kind compliment. “Oh, you do  _flatter_  me, and with such implicit sexuality. Are you sure I can’t sup on you?”

“ _Sanfte!”_

“Oh, fine, fine... I’ll pick a restaurant, shall I?”

“Please.”

“And you’ll pluck things off my plate?”

“Well, can’t let you be  _too_ gluttonous. I’d only be helping, if I took a little from your plate.”

Sanfte considered this for a moment, frowning slightly. Little lines shifted to furrow his brow, to tighten about his eyes, his mouth. “And-- pray forgive me, dear, if I misunderstand you, but are you not then  _encouraging_  my gluttony, when you eat two bites of your meal and then push the rest over to me?”

“No,” Raphael said confidently, “because then I am  _sharing_ , which is, of course, a very angelic thing to do.”

“Oh, very angelic indeed,” Sanfte murmured. “And if I remove the cassock--” Raphael glared at him over his pushed down sunglasses, holy fire shining from his eyes. “--a _nd put on other clothes_ , dear, do calm down, will footsie be back on the table?”

“No!” Raphael said, full of indignation.

Sanfte waited.

“Under the table, surely,” Raphael mumbled, hastily shoving his sunglasses back up so that Sanfte couldn’t see them flare. 

Sanfte laughed, and it was a belly-deep rumble that made Raphael  _squirm_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). You can send requests [on Tumblr](http://patricianandclerk.tumblr.com/ask), too. Requests always open. Check out [Fuck Yeah, Gabriel! too](https://fuckyeahgabrielgoodomens.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Remember that [the Tadfield Advertiser](https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html) and the [Good Omens Prompt Meme](https://onthedisc.dreamwidth.org/9084.html) are both up and running, and people should definitely go leave prompts and fills on both!!


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